


To Dream Again

by acme146



Series: Fading Scars [3]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Drunk Driving, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Mad-Eye the ferret, Minor Character Death, Witnessing, car crash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-02
Updated: 2017-02-02
Packaged: 2018-09-21 11:32:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9547307
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/acme146/pseuds/acme146
Summary: After witnessing a horrible accident while out shopping, Ginny and Albus have a hard conversation about dreaming after loss.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Warning: this story does contains discussion of death by drunk driving.  
> “Sometimes it's the scars that remind you that you survived. Sometimes the scars tell you that you have healed.”  
> ― Ashley D. Wallis, Sometimes

It was the worst sort of accident—one that could have been prevented.

                It would take years for Ginny to walk past that tea shop again. She and Albus were out doing a candy run for Lily’s Christmas present—she was absurdly fond of Muggle candy, and Al had promised her the biggest basket of sweets he could afford. They’d made an afternoon of it, dropping in on Neville and Hannah for a quick chat (and to Floo the enormous basket home) and buying scones at a tiny tea shop off one of the busy streets.

                There had been freezing rain the night before, and Ginny was just telling Albus to mind his steps as they came out when there was a blaring horn, a screech of tires and a heart-stopping thud of metal against flesh. Ginny had shoved her much-taller son behind her at the horn’s blare, and she saw everything.

                A young woman had been struck by a car that seemed to have spun out of control. She was lying motionless on the sidewalk, eyes wide open in shock. A young man knelt next to her, shaking and sobbing. The driver got out of the car, hand on his mouth as he stared at the couple.

                “Don’t look, Albus,” Ginny said sharply. She’d seen that stillness before, too many times.

                Albus looked anyways, eyes wide with shock.

                The man was cradling the woman’s face in his hands. “Connie, are you okay? Come on Connie, wake up. Wake up!” He realized then—Ginny saw it in his eyes. He grabbed the woman’s body, sobbing violently. “Connie, please don’t leave!”

                Ginny turned to Albus, alarmed to see her son shaking almost as badly as the man. “Al, dear, let’s go, okay?”

                Al reached out and took her hand. He hadn’t done that in years, but Ginny squeezed his hand tight and they walked quickly together away from the scene of the accident. The moment they were out of sight Ginny pulled Albus close and Apparated straight to Grimmauld Place.

                Without letting go of her son’s hand Ginny raced them both into the house. Harry and the other children were still out, apparently, because Kreacher didn’t come running to the door. The house was eerily quiet, used to the sounds of a family.

                Albus wrenched his hand out of her grip and bolted up the stairs. Ginny wanted to go after him, but she found that her knees were shaking badly. She leaned against the wall right where Mrs. Black’s portrait used to be, taking deep breaths.

                What could she say to Albus?

                She heard retching from upstairs and winced. Why did he have to see that? He was fourteen years old, for Merlin’s sake!

                _You were thirteen when you saw Cedric Diggory’s dead body._

_I didn’t **watch him die.**_

**** _Harry did, and he was fourteen._

                Ginny pushed herself away from the wall and went upstairs. Al was bent over the toilet, heaving with nothing coming out. He looked up at her when she came in, and Ginny’s heart broke to see the horror in his eyes.

                “Oh Al…” she knelt next to him, holding him close as she cleaned his face. Albus wasn’t heaving any longer, but he was shaking badly. “Can you stand, Al?”

                Albus nodded. Ginny gripped his hands and pulled him to his feet. He swayed and leaned against her again. _Cold. He’s in shock._ Ginny tightened her grip around his waist and led him to his room. His limbs were as floppy as a doll’s, and Ginny felt cold herself as she arranged her son into a comfortable position against the headboard. She summoned a Calming Draught and the teapot Luna had given them that made tea on its own. She passed Albus the draught. “Drink this, Al. You’ll have some nice tea in just a moment , okay?”

                Albus had always been pliant when he was ill, but the fact that he didn’t protest the tea—he vastly preferred coffee—frightened her. Mad-Eye, his ferret, was chittering anxiously in his cage. As the tea poured itself and added extra sugar, Ginny got up, picked up the ferret and brought him over to Albus. Mad-Eye curled up protectively on Albus’ lap. Albus stroked Mad-Eye’s ears absently and reached for the now-floating tea cup. He drank it in one. He wasn’t shaking quite so badly anymore, but his eyes were still filled with pain.

                “Al, do you want to talk about what happened?” Ginny asked gently. Al moved over on his bed and she took the hint, sitting in the empty space with her head against her son’s shoulder. “We don’t have to right now, if you don’t want to.”

                “The woman—was she dead?”

                Ginny bit her lip. “She was, darling. I’m so sorry you had to see that.”

                “Did the driver mean to kill her?”

                “I—” Ginny thought back to the man’s expression when he got out of the car. “I don’t think so, but I’m not sure. Sometimes things like that happen, sweetheart. It’s a horrible tragedy, but there’s sometimes no preventing it.”

                Albus was quiet for a few moments. Mad-Eye crawled up Albus’ chest, nuzzling into his shoulder.

                “Her husband saw her die.”

                “I’m not sure whether they were married—”

                “He had a ring like Dad’s.”

                “Oh. Then yes, he did.”

                Albus looked at her, and Ginny’s heart ached. “Mum, is that how you felt when you saw Dad dead?”

                Ginny took a deep breath, memories of being nearly seventeen, standing at the front of the fighters and looking at a too-still figure in Hagrid’s massive arms, a high cold voice announcing her love’s death slamming into her.

                “I—if they were really in love, Albus, then yes, I would think so,” she managed.

                Albus bit his lip. “How is he ever going to be okay again?” he whispered.

                The room was quiet for a long few minutes. Ginny twisted her hands. How could she speak? What could she say?  
                “You know that your Dad and I weren’t together for the Horcrux Year, right?” she said finally.

                Albus frowned. “I know that he only brought Aunt Hermione and Uncle Ron with him to hunt Horcruxes, because Professor Dumbledore told him to only tell them.”

                “He thought he was doing the right thing,” Ginny agreed. “And he was right, to a point. But before he left we broke up, Al.”

                “What?!”

                Ginny managed a smile at her son’s outrage. “Your Dad loved me dearly, and I loved him. We got together right towards the end of my fifth year, and those were the happiest weeks of my life…but after Dumbledore was killed, Harry broke up with me so that Voldemort wouldn’t come after me.”

                “But…but he loved you!”

                “He did.” Ginny pressed her hands together. “Your Dad was scared, Al. He’d lost a lot of people he loved, people who were trying to protect him, and he didn’t want that to happen to me. He couldn’t stop Ron and Hermione from coming with him, because they wouldn’t let him go alone. And I…I let him go. It was hard—the hardest thing I’ve ever had to do, but I knew he’d come home to me if he could, someday.”  
                “And he did.”

                “He did,” Ginny said with a smile. Then it faded. “But in the year he was gone, I was never sure whether he was alive or dead. School was quite bad that year, with the Carrows and Snape and all of the Death Eater ‘random inspections’…they never targeted me specifically for being anything other than a Weasley, so Harry’s idea did work, but it was still awful, the not knowing.”  
                Al was still and quiet beside her.

                “And I had to think,” Ginny tried to speak more quickly now, because it was getting harder to get the words past the lump in her throat, “I had to think about what would happen to me if we won but he didn’t come back. I knew he wanted me to live and be happy, even if it wasn’t with him. And I loved him enough to try. I had to dream of a life that didn’t include him, one that could still bring me happiness, still have some goals to accomplish.”

                Al took her hand. “What did you dream about, Mum?”

                Ginny squeezed his hand. “I thought about becoming a Quidditch player. Maybe being a teacher, I’d always liked tutoring other students. Maybe working with Fred and George in their shop…I’ll be honest, Al, they weren’t the dreams I wanted at the time.”

                “Because you wanted to do those things with Dad?”

                Ginny nodded. “More than anything. But I tried. And then, when I thought I saw him dead….it damn near killed me, Albus, but I knew I had to keep fighting. The dreams I had for me had to come true now, because there were no other dreams.”

                “But Dad came back.”   

                “He did. And some of those dreams came true, didn’t they?” Ginny grinned weakly at her son. “And we got married, and we have a family together, and that was my dream for us. It was your Dad’s dream for us too, which was quite convenient.”

                Al rolled his eyes, but there was a ghost of a smile on his lips. He soon started biting his lip again. “Will Connie’s husband have his own dreams?”

                Ginny stroked his hair. “I don’t know, darling,” she whispered. “I don’t know if either of them had any reason to dream other dreams. I made myself do that because I knew there was a real chance we wouldn’t make it through the war, but some people haven’t been touched by tragedy. They don’t know that lives can be destroyed in a heartbeat, no matter how kind or brave or wise you are. But maybe someday, probably not right away, he’ll be able to think of something he wants to do in her memory, or because she loved him and wanted him to be happy. He’ll try to dream, and it won’t be easy, but…he’s got a chance, Al.”

                Albus curled against her, Mad-Eye now perched on his shoulder. “I hope he does. I wish he didn’t have to, though.”

                “So do I, love,” Ginny replied, leaning her cheek against his and remembering all the war’s lost lovers, those left behind. Some of them had healed, others were wandering, trying to fix themselves, to build a future that didn’t hurt so much. “So do I.”

* * *

 

                Two weeks passed and Christmas came and went. Ginny hadn’t forgotten about the accident, but Al seemed to have bounced back, at least enough to still be smiling when he gave Lily her present.

                Three days later, Ginny picked up the Muggle paper they got occasionally and saw Connie’s facing looking out at her. The man who’d killed her had been driving drunk, and was now going to prison. Her husband, Albert, announced that he was going to make donations to foundations supporting families affected by drunk driving.

                When Albus saw the paper, and asked her quietly how to change wizarding money to Muggle money, Ginny took him to Gringotts herself.

**Author's Note:**

> We never got to hear about Ginny's year and how she felt, but I feel someone as strong as she was would think about this sort of thing.  
> Cheers,  
> Acme


End file.
